


A Mockery of Safety and The Desire for Freedom

by Ghastly_lemons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Goddamn Draco is a dick in this, Hermione doing what she gotta, Long One Shot, One Shot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Set after HBP, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28810023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghastly_lemons/pseuds/Ghastly_lemons
Summary: After being knocked out during the invasion of Hogwarts at the end of sixth year, Hermione finds herself hidden away by Draco and at the mercy of his strange behaviour.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 19
Kudos: 184





	A Mockery of Safety and The Desire for Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> This is the alternate of my other fic "An Attempt at Safety and the Reality of Freedom."
> 
> I came up the the introductory passages first, and then could not decide where to take it from there. This one turned into a long oneshot, but the other felt more like an ongoing fic. So I wrote both.

**July 1996**

Voldemort watched the young man rise shakily from his knees to stand in front of him, standing as tall as he could and trying not to sway. His grey eyes fixed on the floor as he took slow breaths, trying not to vomit and refusing to look at the gathered crowd.

“Well done, Young Malfoy. Welcome to the ranks of the _faithful_.” The sneer was unhidden in the words, no one in the lavish ballroom thought that the teenager had taken the Mark willingly. All knew it was a leash to keep the disgraced Malfoy family under control.

The Malfoy heir raised his chin and stiffened his spine. “Thank you My Lord, I will endeavour to prove myself worthy of this honour.” His left hand still twitched with the pain the Dark Mark had caused him and his face was ghostly white, but his expression and bearing were impeccable.

Sibilant laughter ran chills up the spines of many of those _Faithful_ present to witness the ceremony. “Such spirit! You will need that to complete your tasks this year.” Voldemort leaned back on the dark throne he had conjured in the Malfoys own ballroom, stroking the head of the giant snake that wound around him.

“Tasks, My Lord?”

“Yes, a dual task, really.” Red eyes widened with perverse glee. “First, I have heard that you excel in solving problems most consider unsolvable. So you will be granted the honour of finding a way to usher in your fellows to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Before the end of the coming school year. I’m sure it will be but a trifle for you.”

Narcissa Malfoy stifled a whine, her sons subtle hand gesture keeping her from interrupting.

“It will be done. Before you tell me the second part of my task, I wish to ask a boon My Lord.” None could see the fear he felt asking this as he kept his chin tilted proudly high, but they all knew he felt it.

“Oh, you make demands?” Voldemort was amused by this striplings cheek and waved for him to continue.

Draco Malfoy lowered himself to one knee on the ebony floor and bowed his head before the pale snake-man. “Perhaps not a demand, but a wish if I perform to your satisfaction.” Staying down but lifting his head to meet the unearthly red eyes of the creature who now held sway over his home, Draco took a steadying breath and made his request. “I would like to take a hostage when we storm Hogwarts.”

Another soul chilling laugh echoed through the massive room, this one high, mad, and feminine. “My nephew wants someone? For sport or to ransom, little Draco?” Bellatrix’s broken teeth bared in an insane grin as she danced forwards to leer over her kin. “Who, who, who?!”

Draco never took his eyes off Voldemort. “I want Hermione Granger.”

**June 30th 1997**

Hermione ran barefoot through the halls of Hogwarts in her pyjamas and a jumper, feeling the Felix Felicis wearing off with every passing step. Gripping her wand so tight she thought it might snap, she gasped for breath as she fled the grim figure in dark robes that chased her. Twice she had nearly been caught, and she dodged red stunning spells as she searched for an escape.

The castle was a mad house, the Death Eaters throwing spells without regard while the older students and teachers tried to quell them. The battle had been short so far, but she was terrified and awed by the intensity of it. And very, very confused by the fact that many of the masked bastards seemed to be gunning specifically for her. She rather grimly felt a little pride alongside her fear to be considered such a threat that so many grown witches and wizards had turned to try and take her as she ran past.

Finally she heard no more pursuit, and she threw herself into a hidden alcove to catch her breath so she could get back to the fight. Before she could gain back a little stamina, sudden footfalls outside her hiding place made her shrink back and slap her hands over her mouth in an effort to keep quiet.

“I know you’re there little Mudblood. May as well come out.” The deep, raspy voice caused Hermione to shiver in fear and try to press further into the alcove in the hopes they were bluffing. “No? Well, then…” Suddenly an arm cloaked in black shot out and grabbed her by her unruly curls, hauling her back into the corridor and throwing her to the floor. A cruel silver mask stared down at her and she froze for a fatal second before trying to raise her wand too late. “ _Stupefy_.”

**A Mockery of Safety**

Hermione woke with a great heaving breath and scrambled to try and find her wand.

“You’re awake.” Drawled a smooth voice from somewhere next to her. Hermione whipped around to find Draco Malfoy languidly sprawled in a high-backed wooden chair next to the large ornate bed she was currently lying in, his hands laced together and resting on his stomach while he regarded her with amusement.

“Malfoy? What-“ She broke off and shook her head to try and clear it, unsuccessfully. “Where am I?” She looked, bewildered, around the large octagonal room. Two walls were occupied by huge empty bookshelves that stretched between vast arching windows draped with deep blue velvet curtains that were drawn open to let in soft dawn light. The wall opposite her had a stone hearth flanked by two doors in the centre of it. The bed occupied the remaining wall, with a large magical portrait of what appeared to be a Fae hanging above it. A silvery brocade couch and single armchair sat before the merrily burning fire, and a dining table and two chairs made from the same ornately carved walnut wood as the bed she lay in stood in the middle of the room. She turned back to Malfoy. “Where _is_ this place?”

Malfoy stood and brushed his immaculate black waistcoat smooth before gesturing to the end of the bed with one eyebrow raised. “Mind if I sit?” He didn’t wait for an answer before settling himself down, curling one leg flat on the bed with his dragonhide boot dangling off the edge. “What do you remember?”

His question cleared some of her disorientation and she gasped. “Death Eaters! There were Death Eaters in the castle!” She looked around for her wand again. “Where’s my wand? I have to go make sure everyone is alright!”

Malfoy chuckled and leant back onto one elbow, languid and unconcerned. “Not to worry Granger. I believe your friends are all unscathed.” The corner of his mouth pulled back in a smug smirk. “And your wand is… Elsewhere.”

Hermione stopped searching and drew away from him warily. “Malfoy… What is going on?”

“Nothing to worry yourself over.” He waved a hand around them. “A Death Eater caught you, and I ended up bringing you here for your safety.” His eyes glittered with something she couldn’t quite place, but it made a shiver race up her spine.

“And ‘here’ is…?” She trailed off, hoping to prompt him to answer.

“Why, the most ancient and noble Malfoy Manor.” His tone was magnanimous and he smiled at her, all gleaming white teeth.

“You brought me to your _home_?” Hermione yelped in surprise. “Why?”

“Why Granger, I told you, it was for your safety.” He was still smiling at her, his eyes as hard as stone and betraying nothing.

She blinked rapidly at him. “But… Why would you care about my safety? You hate me.”

Malfoy inclined his head towards her. “Perhaps, but would you rather I left you in the hands of the Death Eater that caught you?”

“No!” Hermione realised that she was being rather rude, given the apparent- bizarre- circumstances. “No, sorry. Um, thank you Malfoy.” She looked down at her lap. “I appreciate this, but when can we leave? I need to get back.”

He raised his pale gold eyebrows. “I have no idea. I am fairly sure you’d be hunted down the second you left this room.”

“Oh.” Hermione bit her lip and willed herself not to cry in front of him. “Of course. I’m Potter’s… Muggleborn friend, right? Do you think that’s why they… Took me?”

Malfoy cocked his head as though in thought, his stormy grey eyes hooded. “Possibly. Who knows the minds of Death Eaters?”

Hermione laughed a little bitterly. “To think Harry thought _you_ were a Death Eater.” She tried to smile at him and gestured between them. “I guess this puts paid to that theory.”

Malfoy smiled that wolfish smile at her again. “It could well do.” He sat straighter and unbuttoned his left cuff. “But they did give me this.” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a writhing black mark against his porcelain forearm. The grinning skull stared up with empty sockets while the snake slithered endlessly from its bony jaws in a horrible Gordian Knot.

Hermione recoiled violently. “Oh god. He was right! You’re a Death Eater!”

“Branded as one anyway.” He corrected. “But as you said, perhaps I am not if I saved you.” He edged closer to where she was pressed against the headboard and twirled one of her knotted locks around his finger. “Anyway, I must be going. I’ll see you later, Granger.” He let go of her hair and stood, staring down at her with eyes like a tempest. Then he smiled that sharp smile once again and turned on his heel to apparate away.

Hermione threw herself out of the bed as soon as he was gone and rushed to one of the doors. It led to a white marble bathroom with a shower and claw-footed bath done in bronze accents. She slammed that door and rushed into the next, intending to run as far and as fast as she could. To her dismay, it was a walk-in wardrobe full of what looked to be some rather expensive witches robes. Backing out, she rushed to the nearest window and pulled up short when she saw that the room was in a high tower.

Swearing viciously, she pressed her face to the glass and tried to look down at the walls to see how far the drop was. She estimated that it was a good fifteen metres at least to the next roof. Pacing in front of the window, she shook her hands and set her jaw. “Fuck it.” She growled, and dragged the chair Malfoy had been sitting in over to the window next to the bed then stripped the bedding and gathered all the expensive cotton sheets into a bundle and dumped them next to the window. “Okay Hermione. This is insanely cliché, but you can do this. You can climb down this bloody ridiculous tower and get away from the crazy Death Eater.” She swallowed her panic at the thought of falling, and set to work knotting all the sheets into a rope that would hopefully get her to the roof below the tower.

Once she finished her make-shift rope, Hermione tied it to the foot of the heavy bed, yanking with all her weight to check each knot. Once she felt it was secure enough she stood and took a deep breath to centre herself before grabbing the chair and lifting it as best she could. Heaving with every ounce of strength she had, she hurled the chair at the window. It bounced off harmlessly with a dull thud, leaving not so much as a scratch.

Hermione fell to her knees. “Of course. Charmed to be unbreakable.” She muttered, grinding the heels of her palms into her stinging eyes. Before she could start crying though, there was a sharp pop, and Hermione scrambled up to find a tiny elf wearing a blue tea towel carrying a tray of fresh fruit and thick slices of buttered toast surveying the room with huge green eyes and pursed lips. “Oh!” She clapped her hands over her mouth. Then she started towards the elf, speaking fast and trying to appear friendly despite her extreme panic. “Hello, I’m Hermione. Could you help me get out of here?”

The little elf walked over to the table without a word and put down the tray of food before snapping her fingers. Everything in the room was suddenly back to where it had been, as though Hermione had never attempted to escape at all. The elf cast a glance around the room before bobbing a quick curtsey not quite at Hermione, and apparating away again. Hermione’s jaw trembled at the clear refusal to help her, and she looked helplessly around the room. Nothing decorated the shelves, and there was apparently no way out. She was trapped here, waiting on the good graces of an apparent Death Eater.

Standing in the middle of the now scrupulously neat room, Hermione Granger began to cry.

-

It took a very long time for her tears to subside. By the time she could draw a breath without sobbing again, the sun had risen well above the horizon. Her stomach growled, she’d barely eaten at dinner, but she ignored the toast and fruit. She didn’t trust Malfoy not to have it doctored with some sort of potion to either humiliate her or force her to give up any secrets she had.

She chose instead to sit on the plush couch and sort through what could possibly be going on. She was still dressed in her jumper and pyjamas, both of which were a little grimy and smelled of spellfire from her attempts to flee from the Death Eaters who’d been after her last night. At least she thought it was last night, she had no way of really knowing. Her hair was a tangled birds nest, and her head felt heavy as a result of being stunned and then crying for hours. All in all, she was a giant mess.

As she sat there, she realised she really didn’t know anything at all about her situation beyond ‘Malfoy is a Death Eater just like Harry said’ and ‘Malfoy apparently took me from another Death Eater ostensibly to keep me safe’. Not terribly informative or promising. And with absolutely no way to find out more while alone in this room, she resolved to wait until someone came in. Perhaps the taciturn elf would answer her questions if she didn’t ask to get out. She wasn’t sure who else would come in, and her heart beat like a trapped rabbit at the thought of _who_ could come. The idea that Malfoy would be a preferable choice made her want to cry again.

Instead of dwelling on things until she panicked, she abandoned that train of thought and began running through what she had been studying in school over the past week. As she silently sat on the couch trying to remember every variation on the bubble-head charm, the elf returned with another tray of food. This time the smell of vegetable soup made Hermione’s mouth water.

The elf quickly deposited her burden on the table and collected the untouched breakfast tray. Before Hermione could open her mouth to ask a question, though, the elf narrowed her huge green eyes at her and pointed to the table with one knobbly finger while balancing the rejected breakfast with her other hand. “Eat.” One single word in a squeaky voice, and she was gone.

Dejectedly, Hermione turned back around on the couch and picked up where she left off. Dinner was much the same except the elf appeared to be even more annoyed with her. Hermione could only hope that she wasn’t going to be punished for Hermione rejecting the food. Eventually she was too tired to continue her mental revision, so she went into the bathroom to relieve herself and gulp down as much water as she could from the tap. Praying the whole time that the pipes weren’t tainted with potions or charms.

When she crawled into the huge bed, sleep didn’t come easily. She lay for hours trying to distract herself from her situation before falling into an uneasy sleep filled with nightmares of being chased.

-

When Hermione woke the next morning, Malfoy was watching her from the chair in the exact same pose he’d been in the day before. She scrambled to get away from him as soon as her eyes and mind focused enough to realise he was there, falling with a graceless thump off the other side of the bed.

“My elf tells me you’re refusing to eat.” He sounded bored, like her eating had no real impact on him. Which, she supposed, it really didn’t.

Hermione levered herself up just enough to glare at him over the bed. “What do you care?” She spat, trying to untangle her limbs from the blankets.

Malfoy flicked an uninterested hand towards the table, where a mouth-watering breakfast of mushroom omelette and fruit salad waited. “Who knows?” He stood and walked around the bed, elegant in his grey shirt and dark waistcoat. “But you’ll need to eat eventually, Granger.” He extended a hand towards her.

Hermione slapped his hand away and stood under her own power, ignoring the way her stomach twisted in hunger. “And what is the food laced with? Verataserum? Something to humiliate me? Something to control me?” She lifted her chin and glared up at Malfoy. He was more than a head taller than her, so she tried to be as imposing as she could with sheer anger.

Malfoy laughed boisterously, his eyes crinkling in mirth. “Nothing. It’s just food. Merlin, so suspicious.” He walked to the table and pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down and eat.” His voice stayed amused, but carried an undercurrent of command.

Hermione stayed stubbornly where she was. “No. I’d rather not.”

Malfoy tilted his sharp chin down, looking amused by her defiance. “You’d rather starve?”

Hermione met his eyes defiantly. “Yes.”

Malfoy smiled his edged smile again. “Ah, but Granger, how long will that last? Would you die before eating something I provided?”

“Malfoy, you’re a Death Eater, I’m Harry Potter’s best friend. Who knows what you’d drug me with.” She pointed out.

Malfoy leaned on the back of the chair, apparently completely at ease. “Perhaps. But I know something you crave even more than food.” His silver eyes inspected her from wild hair to bare feet. “Are you bored in here, Granger?” His deep voice drew out her name, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

Her jaw tightened. “No.” She said shortly.

“Ah, but I think you are.” He stalked towards her, predatory and lean. “You probably could starve your body out of pure spite. But what about your mind?” He reached out and quickly tapped her temple, withdrawing before she could bat his hand away. “I’ll make you a deal. If you’re good and eat your food, I’ll bring you a book.”

Hermione pressed her lips together and screwed her eyes shut. “No.” She ground out.

She felt him wind a curl around his finger again. “We’ll see.” He dropped the curl and stepped back slightly. “Offer stands until breakfast tomorrow.” There was something in his tone that made her eyes fly open. He was looking down at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher, but filled her with foreboding. He folded his slender frame down until his face was next to her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Granger.” Straightening with an amused smirk at her wide eyes and trembling hands, Malfoy turned and apparated away.

Hermione spent the rest of the morning on the couch, warring with herself over whether to eat. She knew she needed sustenance if she hoped to survive, but the fear of being drugged was all-consuming. Not to mention her healthy desire to tell Malfoy to shove it however she could while trapped in this room. When a simple chicken salad was delivered by the silent elf for lunch, she had to force herself to turn away from it. 

She chose instead to go shower, ignoring the expensive soaps and shampoos and making do with the hottest water she could stand instead. Attempting to detangle her mane with no conditioner proved to be at least a distraction from her ever present hunger. Eventually her hair was as untangled as she could manage, and her skin was pink from the heat. As she stepped out of the shower, she froze mid-step.

Her clothes were gone.

Hanging on the door in their place was a blue cotton witch’s robe, fine quality and pretty with white roses embroidered around the hem and collar and a row of small pearl buttons down the front. Hermione stared at it like it was a noose. She cursed Malfoy, knowing he must have ordered his elf to take her clothes. Cautiously stepping out of the shower she snatched the fluffy white towel that hung on the wall and wrapped it around herself. No one else was in the bathroom, thank Merlin, but there was a pile of undergarments neatly folded on the vanity. Hermione choked a little when she saw them. They were soft lavender lace and silk, both racier and far more expensive than anything she’d ever even thought of owning before.

Gritting her teeth, she picked up the bra with one finger, half expecting it to bite. It didn’t though, it just slipped cool and smooth over her finger. Closing her eyes, she tried to figure out whether wearing the clothes or stubbornly refusing and sticking to the towel would be worse.

Thankfully, a thought occurred to her. If this was a room with women’s clothes in it, then it probably had women’s _pyjamas_ in it which might be more to her liking and even include pants. Cracking the door open just enough to check the room was empty, Hermione clutched the towel to her and stuck her head out. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no one else, and slipped into the wardrobe to search for at something least resembling trousers.

It didn’t take long to find the pyjamas, but it wasn’t the relief she had hoped. There were indeed pants, of sorts. Except the pyjamas in the room were either nighties that would most likely leave her feeling exposed, or shorts so tiny that they absolutely would leave her feeling exposed.

Thumping her head on the draw she’d found the nighties in, Hermione resolved to still not wear the dress and knickers in the bathroom. If only out of pure obstinacy. Biting her lip, she opened another draw and grabbed a pair of white silk knickers, pairing them with a blue lace bra just so she wasn’t wearing a matching set. Then she riffled through the hanging robes until she found a deep violet linen one with jade buttons that looked simple enough. Dressing quickly, she repeated her careful check before stepping out into the empty main room without so much as a glance in the mirror at the end of the wardrobe.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, with Hermione finding it extremely hard to concentrate on anything due to her hunger. When dinner arrived it had been hard not to descend upon the simple fish stew like a ravenous ghoul, but she was determined to at least wait out the ultimatum that Malfoy had given her.

Dragging herself to bed without changing, she found that sleep came a great deal quicker, and her last thought was that she dearly hoped Malfoy wasn’t sitting in that thrice-damned chair when she woke.

-

The next morning she woke thankfully alone and miserably to the smell of bacon and eggs. Breathing deeply through the pain in her stomach, she rolled out of the bed and locked herself in the bathroom to get away from the smell and drink as much water as she could. Even that made her starved stomach rebel a little. She breathed slowly through her nose as she sat against the wall and tried to work through Gamps Laws and their exceptions until lunch.

She’d hoped Malfoy would leave her alone, but her hopes were dashed when she heard the pop of apparition after a few hours and left the bathroom to find him sitting at the table in front of a bowl of clear chicken soup.

He took in her rumpled appearance. “Decided to emerge then?” His tone was cut glass, clear and sharp but showing nothing of what he felt.

Hermione stared at him tiredly before walking on stiff legs to the table. When she got closer her brows drew together in a frown, the other chair was gone. She looked up at Malfoy as he smirked at her, and her heart sank. One bowl of soup, and it was in front of him. He was going to pay her back for her rejection by eating in front of her. Determined not to let him see it bothered her, she veered away to go sit on the bed, intending to wait him out by staring out the window at the beautiful grounds.

“Don’t you want something to eat, Granger?” He queried, voice low and drawing out her name again.

She turned her head just enough to address him, but kept her eyes on the window. “I don’t see a place for me at the table.” Her own voice was dull and uninterested. She had no interest in playing his games.

“Ah, but there is.” Malfoy chuckled darkly and crooked a finger at her. “Come here, Granger. I’m going to make _sure_ you eat.”

Sudden, horrified clarity dawned on Hermione. He was going to make her sit on his lap, and probably feed her. Trembling, she closed her eyes and tried not to react. After a moment, she heard the rustle of fabric. Though she steeled herself as best she could, she still flinched violently when Malfoy’s arms slid under her knees and around her back to lift her. She tried to remain inert, hoping he’d tire of this game quicker if she did.

When he settled back on the chair with her perched on his lap, Malfoy rearranged her to sit facing forwards and placed his hands on her waist. “Eat, Granger.” His breath ghosted on the curls at the back of her neck and she had a momentary thought that this is how small animals must feel before the teeth snap closed to end their lives.

Her hand shaking, Hermione opened her eyes and reached out for the spoon. When she leant forward a little and took the first mouthful of food she’d had in more than two days Malfoy’s warm hands moved a little, squeezing her waist gently.

“Good girl.” Malfoy purred, continuing to gently hold her on his lap. “Was that so hard?”

Hermione focused on carefully taking small mouthfuls of soup, biting back the heated retort she wanted to make. Hungry as she was it didn’t take long for her to finish, leaving half the bowl of soup. She placed the spoon in the bowl and put her hands on the table in front of her, wanting to get up and get as far from Malfoy as she could.

Malfoy’s hands, however, tightened on her waist to hold her down. “You didn’t finish.” He didn’t sound amused or neutral for once, he sounded noticeably annoyed.

Hermione stared straight ahead and shook her head slightly. “I can’t. If I eat too much I’ll feel sick.” She kept her voice quiet and soft, she really didn’t want to rile him up when she was apparently helpless and he was holding her so close.

Malfoy hummed and loosened his grip on her slightly, stroking gently over the nearly non-existent curve of her waist. “Reasonable, I guess.” One hand rose to push aside her tresses and he rested his pointed chin on her shoulder. “If you’re good for dinner too, I may even let you read a book.”

Hermione held herself absolutely still as he ran his hands idly over her waist for a moment more before he released her. Not turning towards him, she carefully picked her way to the bathroom and quietly shut the door, listening with baited breath until she heard him leave.

Then she buried her face in her hands and bit her lip until it bled to hold back her tears. All her defiance had earned her was the knowledge that Malfoy quite possibly had other plans. Her skin still felt the way he’d squeezed and stroked her. She was so short and his hands were so large that he’d barely moved them, he’d also thankfully kept the touches chaste. But nothing about that lunch felt like his intentions would stay chaste for long.

Sinking down to the floor, Hermione gave in to her sobs, hoping with everything in her that she was wrong.

-

Dinner was a recurrence of lunch, which made every bite of the roasted salmon feel like shards of glass. Hermione tried not to visibly choke or show her discomfort as she balanced on Malfoys lap and he traced her bottom rib with his long fingers. When she’d eaten enough and set down her cutlery, she stayed very still, waiting for him to let her go.

Malfoy instead slipped one arm under her again and carried her to the couch before snapping his fingers to summon the elf. “Bring me the two books on my side table.” He commanded as he settled Hermione across his lap, her back against the arm of the couch and her legs stiffly stretched out in front of her. He began running a slow finger up and down her spine. “Relax. You can spend the evening reading with me.” His slow wolfs smile did nothing to reassure her.

When the elf returned with two large books, Malfoy handed her one. It was a Herbology book on the Papua New Guinea rainforests. She took it with tentative hands and looked up at him uncertainly. He ignored her and rested what appeared to be a potions handbook covered in notes on her knees and opened it before returning his hand to stroking the knobs of her spine.

Hermione watched his impassive face in silence for a while, but he just read on unperturbed by her gaze. Ultimately, she timidly opened the book he’d handed her and tried to hold it out of his line of sight while she read. She desperately wanted to fidget or get off his lap, but she had no idea how he’d react, and provoking him now seemed like an amazingly bad idea. While his reaction to her refusing to eat had been to simply make her eat on his lap, she felt that didn’t bode well for what he may escalate to. She’d have to bide her time until he was less on guard to make her move.

So she sat quietly and read about the lush rainforests of a small island while she tried to ignore the fingers ceaselessly running up and down her spine. Eventually it got late enough that she was trying to supress yawns. Malfoy finally seemed to notice her again and shut his book. “Tired?” She warily nodded and held her still open book to her chest. He took the book from her and set them both aside. “If you behave yourself and go shower properly and change into pyjamas, then I’ll let you keep the book to read.” His smirk was razor edged again.

Hermione gingerly swung her legs off of his lap and tried not to bolt for safety, keeping her steps measured as she walked into the wardrobe. She found the most reasonable nightie she could, and walked out of the wardrobe to go to the bathroom. Malfoy’s eyes followed her as she walked past the couch, his expression satisfied.

She washed using the soaps and potions in the shower, quickly and efficiently. She tried not to think about how the soaps smelled exactly like her own back at Hogwarts. When she emerged smelling like cinnamon and strawberries instead of spellfire and old sweat she braced herself to dress in the nighty and get to the bed. She was fairly certain Malfoy hadn’t left, and with its thin straps and nearly gauzy weave, this nighty was more revealing than her disappeared pyjamas, for all that it reached her knees. Taking a few moments to steady her nerves, Hermione slipped on the thin silk and opened the door to go to the bed.

Malfoy raked his eyes over her in the misty green silk as she passed, thankfully opting not to comment on how thin it was. Instead, he was twirling his wand and held out his right hand to grab hers as she tried to skitter past the couch. “Hold on a moment Granger.” He rose to stand above her, and Hermione willed herself not to cross her arms over her chest to hide. “You shouldn’t go to bed with wet hair.” He smirked and let go of her hand to twirl his finger in a clear indication for her to turn around.

Hermione swallowed her trepidation about turning her back on an armed Malfoy, and slowly turned to face the other way. She heard him murmur something too softly for her to hear, and then she felt her hair tug itself back and suddenly dry. Gasping, she reached behind her to see what he had done to her, earning dark laughter from him. 

“Take it easy, it’s just braided.” She felt him grip the end of her long hair and lean down to her ear. “I wouldn’t do anything to your hair. It’s…” His breath gusted over her cheek as he sighed. “You.”

Hermione shuddered involuntarily and Malfoy released her with a small push in her lower back. “Get to bed Granger. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-

The next three days were much the same, except Malfoy left her alone between and after meals. He still made her eat on his lap and caressed her as she did, but she got a reprieve when she wasn’t eating. Eventually on the morning of the fourth day, she felt some of her bravery return. When he arrived for lunch, she was already sitting on the chair at the table, waiting for him.

“Malfoy, I want to know if my friends are okay.” She wasn’t asking, it was a statement bold and as sure as she could be. She lifted her chin as he cocked his head at her and the house elf set a meal of shepherd’s pie before her.

“Well, I could probably tell you that.” He put one hand on the back of the chair and leaned over her, his eyes glinting silver. “But what will you give me in return?”

Hermione closed her eyes and took a slow breath so she didn’t punch him. “I don’t have anything to give until you let me out of here.” She bit her cheek and tried to keep her face disinterested as she looked up at him again.

Malfoy leaned further down, his predators smile making an appearance again. “Nothing? Are you sure?”

Hermione’s back stiffened. “I don’t have any useful information, if that’s what you mean.” God, she hoped that was what he meant.

Malfoy twisted his index finger into a curl that had escaped the braid he had re-charmed her hair into the night before and his smile widened. Hermione’s heart dropped into her stomach and she knew her hope was in vain. “I don’t care for information.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she bit the inside of her cheek harder, she wasn’t stupid, she knew what he had been leading up to. “Then what could you possibly want?” Maybe if she could make him say it he’d realise how awful it was. Or if, like she strongly suspected, he didn’t have a conscience she could make him realise what he was asking of a _Mudblood_.

“Tell me Granger,” His molten eyes bore into hers as he continued to play with the curl by her face. “Have you ever been kissed?”

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away, dragging the ringlet from his grasp. “Why do you care?”

Malfoy’s slender fingers caught her chin and guided her face back to look at him. “Oh, I’m fairly sure you know.” Laughter laced his voice, and Hermione felt unmoored.

“I- I’m a Mudblood, remember?” She frowned at him, willing him to remember.

He stroked his thumb just below her bottom lip. “Aye, but what a Mudblood you are.” His tone was almost reverent and his eyes looked hungry.

“Malfoy, please. Please don’t-” She cleared her throat a little when her voice caught. “Don’t make me.” She tried to appeal to whatever kinder nature he had, hoping that it would work.

Malfoy moved back the barest fraction of an inch. “I won’t force you, Granger.” His smile was like a knife again. “I dislike unwilling partners.” He stood all the way back up, his hand on her chin tilting her head back. “So for today, if you answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

“Fine. Fine. I-“ She looked away from his eyes. “I haven’t been kissed.”

Malfoy dropped her chin and stroked her hair. “Good girl. Stand up.” When she hesitantly stood, he slid into the seat and pulled her onto his lap, motioning for her to eat and waiting until she’d had a few bites before speaking. “Potter and Weasley are fine.” His hands began their slow exploration of her ribcage, moving ever so slightly higher than he’d done before. “One of Weasley’s brothers ended up with a facial scar, but none of your other _friends_ were hurt at all.”

Hermione knew she shouldn’t press her luck, but she had to ask one more question. “Do they know I’m alive?” She asked in a small voice.

Malfoy took the fork from her hand and set it down before turning her sideways on his lap so she could look at him. “What will you barter for that answer?”

Hermione looked at him coolly. “What do you want?” If she knew his starting point, she’d have a firmer ground to bargain with him. The last thing she wanted was to overextend and do something greater than she had to.

Malfoy tapped a finger to his lips and smiled mockingly at her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “On the cheek.” She countered.

Malfoy sighed in a put upon manner, as though he was indulging her. “I guess that will have to suffice. On the cheek.”

Hermione licked her lips nervously then leant in to give him a chaste peck on the cheek, retreating as far as she could while still held on his lap the second she did it.

Malfoy hummed in satisfaction and raised an eyebrow at her. “They know you’re alive. Potter apparently saw you being carried bound and unconscious out of Hogwarts.”

Despite her best efforts, Hermione felt a tear slip down her cheek. “Oh.” She could only imagine how frantic everyone was.

Malfoy surprised her by gathering her to his chest and holding her without pushing her boundaries for once. He didn’t say anything, just held her for a moment before letting her go and turning her back to finish her lunch.

-

At dinner Malfoy brought her a new book, this one on the history of the Hogwarts Centaur herd. As he gave it to her, her eyes darted nervously to where the Herbology text was hidden under her pillow. Malfoy took it with a smirk at her forlorn expression, before turning and shelving it in one of the empty bookshelves.

“Play nice and you get to keep the books.” He laughed at her when her expression turned thunderous, and she only barely managed to hold her tongue as he pulled her onto his lap. “Perhaps you could even get new ones.” His tone matched his roving hands.

“And what would that cost me?” She snapped at him, pointedly picking up her fork to begin eating the rich tomato pasta dish set in front of her.

She felt his chuckle rumble deep in his chest behind her. “Oh, nothing you wouldn’t be happy to give."

Hermione threw her fork down and whirled around, standing up too fast for him to keep her on his lap. “I’m not sure how it’s escaped your notice Malfoy, but I am most definitely _not_ happy being held prisoner and subjected to your lecherous advances!” She threw her arms wide, sparks dancing in her unbound hair. “Why the hell are you even doing this? You’ve always maintained I am disgusting both by blood and by simply being who I am!”

Malfoy reached a lazy arm up and stroked one sparking curl. “I find myself fascinated by you. I don’t care whether you stole your magic or not anymore.” His eyelids lowered as he continued to wind her curl around his finger. “You are brilliant, fierce, and beautiful. Why wouldn’t I want you?”

Hermione saw red. “What?! You couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person?! You had to imprison me, play sick games like making me beg and bargain for basic information like _are my goddamn friends okay?_ ” Hermione drew back one hand to slap him, but paused when she saw the look on his face. He didn’t look angry. He looked enthralled.

Malfoy’s silver eyes had widened during her rant and his lips were just slightly parted. He looked like he was drinking in her anger with pleasure, like her wrath was somehow what he wanted.

Hermione recoiled, revolted by him. “You’re sick.”

Malfoy stood suddenly and caged her against the table with his arms, leaning over into her space. “And you are magnificent.” His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright as he licked his lips. “No one else at Hogwarts has your sheer, blinding power. Your passion. Who else could compare?”

Hermione was nearly flat against the table in an effort to put as much space as she could between them, her arms knocking the pasta onto the floor. “So why imprison me? Why not just let me be free where I can be me if you admire me that much?”

Malfoy leaned closer still. “Because a Malfoy always wants the best.” His voice was nearly a whisper.

Hermione stared up at him with wide eyes and a tremor in her limbs. “The best what, Malfoy? What could I possibly be to you while you have me trapped here?” She willed her voice to be steady, to not betray her fear at his proximity.

“The best of everything, Granger.” His hands moved from the table to grip her hips through the robes she wore. “The best of absolutely everything.”

“Malfoy-“ Her voice came out reedy, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Malfoy, I can’t be anything while I’m caged. And I’m certainly not your anything.”

Malfoy dropped his forehead to her shoulder and took a long breath through his nose. “And yet, I have you in my arms.” He mumbled against her, his words warm on her collarbone.

“Malfoy, this isn’t having me. This is wrong.” She tried to draw away from him, tried to get him to understand. “How long will you keep me here, toying with me like this. _forcing_ me like this?”

Malfoy’s hands tightened spasmodically on her hips. “I’m not going to force you.” He growled.

“This _is_ forcing me, Malfoy. It’s coercion.” She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. “You have me here, dependant on your goodwill, and you’ve demanded physical… touch from me for the things I want.” Her eyes searched his. “Do you get it?”

Malfoy appeared to pause briefly to contemplate her words, before smiling like a drawn blade again. “So if I wasn’t demanding, you’d be willing?”

Hermione felt her hope that he might be reasonable shatter. “Malfoy…”

Before she could get another word out, she found herself lifted on to the table with him standing between her knees, his lips hovering a scant inch from hers. “Well, _Hermione_?”

Hermione stared into his eyes, immobilised by the sheer intensity of how he was looking at her. After a handful of heartbeats Malfoy apparently ran out of patience, and he tilted his head slightly to press his lips to hers. Hermione nearly whimpered at the absurdity of him thinking this was any better, but she didn’t want to egg him on. So she stayed unmoving until he moved back and rested his forehead on hers with his eyes closed and a fond smile on his face.

“You feel like sunshine.” He murmured.

Hermione closed her eyes and dragged in a ragged mouthful of air. “I think… I think I need to eat something.”

Malfoy hummed and pulled her off the table, rearranging her to sit on his lap to eat again. “I’ll call for some more food. What do you want?” He snapped his fingers and the elf appeared, looking at them expectantly while it magically cleared away the mess from the floor.

“The same is… fine.” As the elf vanished she bowed her head, thinking of Harry, Ron, the Weasley’s, her parents, anyone who wasn’t in this room. The people she loved. The people who needed her. Bracing herself, she lifted her head and stared at the single book on the otherwise bare shelf. “What would you want me to do to let me go?” She kept her voice strong, but took care not to sound scolding or strident.

Malfoy nuzzled his face into the soft skin at the side of her neck. “Ah, but isn’t that, how did you put it? Coercion?” He breathed hot and slightly mocking against her neck, before pressing his lips to her skin.

Hermione swallowed heavily. “If you’ll let me go, I’ll do… whatever it is… willingly.”

Malfoy nipped her neck as the house elf returned with her new plate of pasta, making her jolt and yelp. “Eat your dinner, Hermione.” He told her.

Malfoy’s hands roamed further than they ever had while she ate, straying from their normal safe paths at her waist. Hermione found it increasingly hard not to react when his fingers grazed the inside of her knee or stopped just short of the underside of her breasts. Malfoy was apparently unbothered by the fact that her hair must have been in his face, as he frequently buried his face in it to press slow kisses to her shoulders and nape through the curls. By the time Hermione had finished eating she had to admit that had the whole situation not been so terrifying, she would have possibly enjoyed it. But as it was, she sat tense and silent as the plate was cleared away.

When Malfoy lifted her and took her to the couch, he settled her next to him, tucked under his arm. She clenched her fists in her lap uncertainly, not knowing whether this was a good or a bad sign. Malfoy traced light patterns on her shoulder with the very tips of his fingers for a moment before speaking.

“You would be truly willing?” She twisted her head up to see he was looking down at her curiously.

Hermione consciously relaxed her fists. “Yes.” She nodded for good measure, one firm up and down of her head.

Malfoy shifted, and she was suddenly straddling his lap on her knees, her robe bunched around her thighs by his pale hands. “Prove it.” He challenged with his wolfish smile, all teeth and heat.

Hermione bit her lip before gathering every last scrap of her determination, and putting her hands on his chest for balance. “Okay.” She said, as much to herself as him, and leaned slowly forward until their lips met. She didn’t know what to do from there, having only been kissed for the first time earlier that evening while she sat as still as possible. So she tried to imitate what she’d seen on TV at home, or when she found rule-breakers snogging after curfew while patrolling Hogwarts as a prefect.

When she opened her mouth slightly and ran her small, pink tongue over his bottom lip, Malfoy groaned and opened his mouth, sliding his own tongue along hers. Hermione moved her arms up to push her hands through his moonlight-silver hair as she’d heard people liked that, and Malfoy responded in kind, burying one hand in her hair and wrapping the other around her waist to deepen the kiss. 

Hermione thanked all that was holy that Malfoy didn’t plunder her mouth like she’d seen most teenaged boys do to their poor paramours. Instead he flicked his tongue delicately against hers to coax her further while his lips stayed softly against hers. He cradled her head while she knelt above him, his fingers stroking her scalp gently. She focused on trying not to make a fool of herself by panicking about kissing Malfoy, mimicking the way he moved his lips slowly and trying not to just jam her tongue down his throat or something similarly crass. 

Eventually Malfoy pulled her hair gently to signal her to disengage, and stared up at her with hungry grey eyes. “Two weeks.” He said, his voice deep and rough.

Hermione blinked in confusion. “Two weeks what?”

Malfoy placed both his hands along her jaw and punctuated each word with a kiss somewhere on her face. “Be mine for two weeks.”

Hermione held his wrists to still him. “And then I can leave?” She asked.

Malfoy shrugged. “If you want to.”

Hermione weighed her options. Submit to whatever Malfoy wanted, willingly, or fight him and more than likely stay trapped here and run the risk of him losing patience with her anyway. She had no guarantee that he would let her go, but she had to try something. She also worried that he would corner her into it eventually anyway, and at least this way there was a chance, small as it was, that she’d be able to leave at the end of it. “I have your word you’d let me go?” He nodded solemnly. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Malfoy grinned and pulled her into a lingering kiss before sliding her over so she was sitting back on the couch. He stood up and tugged his black waistcoat back into place. “Tomorrow then.” He put a hand on the back of the couch and tipped her chin up with one finger. “Sleep well Hermione.” He kissed her nose and turned to apparate away.

Hermione changed and crawled into the bed as soon as he was gone, running her fingers over her lips absently. Sorting through what she’d just agreed to, she realised that there was one tiny sliver of a silver lining. Malfoy apparently didn’t like to hurt women, which meant that she’d potentially come out of this unharmed except for a few memories she could deal with in therapy one day.

Perhaps quite a lot of therapy.

-

The next morning Hermione was surprised to be woken by Malfoy’s standoffish elf poking her shoulder rather than being left to wake in her own time.

“Miss is to get dressed.” The elf pointed to where the light blue robe from the first time she showered hung on the door of the bathroom.

Hermione tried to clear her head of sleep by shaking it. “Oh, uh, Morning.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

The elf pursed her lips and twitched her huge ears. “Miss be finding undergarments in bathroom. Master be saying to get dressed.”

Hermione sighed, which turned into a yawn as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Okay, okay. You can tell your _Master_ that I’m getting dressed.” Hermione normally would be nicer to house elves, but this one was rubbing her the wrong way before she’d even had breakfast.

Snatching the robe as she stepped into the bathroom, Hermione grumbled to herself when she saw that the elf had even left the same matching knickers and bra neatly folded on the vanity. Throwing the light blue robe carelessly on top of the vanity, she stripped off her nightie and wound her hair into a rough knot to keep it out of the way, then stepped into the shower, washing herself vigorously while she tried to prepare for what was to come. By the time she was clean and dressed, all she’d achieved was making herself feel nearly sick in morbid anticipation.

When she crept out of the bathroom wearing the blue robes with her hair wild around her shoulders, Malfoy was sitting at the table wearing a simple black button-up shirt and trousers, waiting for her. And to her great surprise, so was another chair. She didn’t sit immediately, eyeing it warily for a second before furrowing her brows quizzically at Malfoy.

“Please take a seat.” He chuckled. When she sat down in the empty chair he snapped his fingers, and his elf delivered plates of beautifully poached eggs topped with smoked salmon on crusty brown bread to them both.

Hermione looked at the two plates in surprise. “You’re eating too?”

Malfoy smirked at her. “Well, I am human. I need to eat to survive you see.” He deftly cut a bite and brought it to his lips. “Please, do try it.”

Hermione picked up her own knife and fork, noting that this was the first time she’d held a knife in this room. “I think we should talk.”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at her and swallowed his morsel. “What was it you wish to discuss?”

Hermione fidgeted, mauling the beautifully presented breakfast by cutting it into smaller and smaller pieces. “I… You said ‘be mine’. But I don’t know exactly what that means. I know I should have clarified this before I agreed…” She bit her lip and met his eyes. “I inferred some things from how you’ve been acting, but I realised I don’t know exactly what you want. At least not enough to be certain.”

Draco cocked his head at her, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I would imagine you have most likely guessed right.” His smile broadened. “Just what have you _inferred_?”

Hermione glanced away before straightening her spine and staring him straight in the eye to mask her discomfort. “You want to have sex with me.” She stated baldly.

Malfoy tipped his head back and laughed. “Merlin Granger, but you are blunt.” He bit the corner of his lip and raked his eyes down what he could see of her above the table. “Granger, I want to make you scream my name so loud you test the silencing wards on this place.”

Hermione forced herself not to react beyond taking a bite of her mangled eggs. “Okay.” She answered simply.

Malfoy smiled in keen satisfaction and barely took his eyes off of her for the rest of the meal. Once they had both finished, the elf cleared their plates and Malfoy stood and extended a hand to her with a raised brow.

Slipping her hand uncertainly into his, she stood as well, bringing her close enough to feel his warmth and making her tip her head back to look up at him. “What now?”

Malfoy walked a few steps backwards until his knees hit the bed and sat down, pulling her to stand just in front of him. “Whatever you feel like.” His voice had a rough edge to it, and she barely resisted the urge to snort derisively.

“How about… a kiss?” They’d done that before, she could start on semi-familiar ground.

Malfoy smiled lazily at her and ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “Perfect.” He watched her, clearly waiting for her to make the next move. It felt a lot more daunting with him sitting on a bed.

Screwing her courage to the sticking place, Hermione bowed her head and brushed her lips against his, gently taking his bottom lip between hers. He reacted instantly, using her hand to pull her flush to him before wrapping one arm around her waist and fisting her hair in the other. This kiss was an entirely different beast from the one last night. Whereas last night Malfoy had coaxed her gently, today he poured into her. His tongue, teeth, and lips all working to tell her exactly what it was he wanted. She could almost feel how heated his blood was as his fingers flexed against her back.

Hermione began to feel a little dizzy, resting her hands on his shoulders as she tried to both keep her balance and keep up with his onslaught. Then suddenly she was squeaking in surprise as Malfoy turned them and pushed her down onto the bed, breaking the kiss and watching her chest as she heaved for air while he knelt above her with his hands braced beside her shoulders.

“Salazar, Granger.” He groaned. “How has no one so much as kissed you yet?” He dropped to his elbows and began peppering little kisses over the small amount of skin the blue robes exposed at her décolletage. “You look like magic in this colour. All honey skin and fire-whiskey eyes and wild chocolate hair. Makes me want to taste every last inch of you.” Hermione gasped as he suddenly bit down where her shoulder met her neck then laved the small bite with his tongue. “Merlin and Morgana, the sounds you _make_.” He growled.

Malfoy moved his mouth back to hers, kissing her fiercely as he moved her further onto the bed until her head was on the pillows. Hermione tried to figure out what to do with her hands, eventually settling for twining one hand into his soft hair and resting the other one on his arm just above his elbow as he continued to kiss her silly. She willed herself not to think about what was coming, trying to relax her body as his hands moved to slide under her head.

He kissed her until her lips felt bruised and her head spun, keeping his body balanced above hers without touching her beyond his lips, hands, and his inner thighs brushing her knees the whole time. She realised she really needed a moment to breathe, and pulled lightly on his hair to get him to lift his head. When he did she swore his eyes were darker as he looked at her, his face flushed and his own lips swollen. When he dropped to the side of her with one long leg over hers and his arm pulling her close to his chest while he rested his forehead against her shoulder, she was quite surprised. She’d assumed he would have pressed for more.

“Sorry, I was getting dizzy.” She apologised, and wondered why she felt the need to.

Malfoy tightened his arm around her and nuzzled her shoulder. “No problem.” He mumbled. “Still the best snog of my life.”

Hermione found herself startled into laughing. “Merlin, really? I have no idea what I’m doing though!”

Malfoy levered himself up onto one elbow to stare down at her. “And yet…”

Hermione stopped laughing and looked away, embarrassed. “If you say so.” She said primly, as though they hadn’t just spent a good forty five minutes snogging.

Draco laughed and kissed her cheek dotingly. “I do indeed.” He sighed in contentment and lay back on the pillows, slipping his arm under her head so it rested on his shoulder and absently playing with her curls until she found her eyes beginning to drift shut despite herself.

Before she could fully drift off, Malfoy’s deep voice pulled her out of her reverie. “Do you think Potter can actually win?”

Hermione glared up at him. “Of course I do.” She snapped.

Draco continued to look at the ceiling and play with her curls, making no more comment and just settling her back against him.

-

Hermione was quite surprised that she managed to doze on Malfoy’s shoulder. Though perhaps she shouldn’t have been, her sleep in this room could hardly be counted as restful. When she was gently woken by him, it took a solid minute to understand what he was saying.

“Lunch is here, Hermione.” He was stroking the skin of her arm as he crooned in her ear, gentle fingers tracing tickling patterns on her shoulder.

Hermione pushed herself up to sitting. “Oh. What’s for lunch?” Her brain felt muzzy with sleep and she was trying to figure out just how so much time had managed to pass when she felt like she’d only closed her eyes for a second.

Malfoy laughed a little and stretched indolently, his arms reaching backwards to grip the headboard before he dropped bonelessly back onto the bed. “Some sort of frittata I believe.” He ran a hand down her spine, then pushed a little to urge her to move and sat up himself. “Let’s eat.”

Lunch was delicious, but Hermione found that she couldn’t remember a single bite. Her head was spinning with confusion at the whole situation. Malfoy had brought her here because, despite all evidence to the contrary, he apparently wanted to have sex with her. Then, when she’d had to make him back up so she could just catch her breath, he had not pushed her and had even apparently napped with her. The whole thing was so bizarre and out of character that she would have thought it was polyjuice if she hadn’t spent several consecutive hours reading on his lap at one point.

She was also trying to figure out whether it would be better to get the sex over with or try and draw it out. She knew that if they did it today there were still two weeks in which he’d probably ask for it again and again, but it also meant that the waiting would be over and she had to admit that being kept in limbo was making her anxiety about the situation exponentially worse. She might not particularly see her virginity as anything special, but it did mean that she had literally no idea of what to expect aside from the fact that it apparently hurt the first time.

By the time lunch was finished and the house elf had cleared their plates, Hermione had decided to just… get it over with. Perhaps Malfoy would even get bored once he’d had her and leave her be for the two weeks she’d promised him.

Steeling herself, Hermione stood and walked around the table to stand in front of Malfoy as he spun sideways in his chair to track her movements. With shaking hands she reached up and flicked the first button of her robe open. Malfoys eyes zeroed in on the action and he bit his lip hard. Before her courage could fail her, she moved her hands down the rest of the buttons until she was standing with the robe hanging loose in front of her showing glimpses of the paler skin of her torso and the lace undergarments.

And then her courage did fail her. Malfoy was staring at her with his bottom lip between his teeth, but he hadn’t moved since she started, and she had reached a point where she was far more exposed than she had ever let anyone see her before. She didn’t even undress in her dorm if the others were there, something for which she was mercilessly teased. Called a prude.

Yet here she was, apparently not a prude, because letting Malfoy have sex with her to gain her freedom was something she was not just thinking about, but apparently going to do. She’d opened her robes to him, and while she knew he couldn’t see much with the way the fabric draped over her, she shivered a little under his ravening gaze.

“Granger… _Hermione_ …” Malfoy’s voice was low and strangled as he stared at the meagre shard of skin and lace exposed by her actions. “Tell me what you want.”

Hermione closed her eyes and her hands twitched. “You can… touch.” She opened her eyes to look at him, barely having to look down at all though he was seated still and she was standing. “If you want.” She said in a small voice.

“Yessss.” He hissed between his teeth, and brought his hands up to slide inside the opening of her robes. At first he just encircled her waist and kept his hands still. Then he looked up at her face, and she realised that she’d failed to keep her face neutral and probably looked rather pissed off at the situation when his face fell into that same rapt expression he’d worn when she’d yelled at him.

Hermione’s mind raced. If he enjoyed her anger, maybe that was the key to gaining some actual control of this situation. So she frowned at him and cocked her head to the side. “What?” She snapped.

Malfoy surged up, shocking her as his hands firmed around her and lifted her from her feet. Scrabbling at his shoulders, she tried not to fall as she was carried to the bed again and laid down with surprising gentleness. Her robes fell open and Malfoy stood above her while she blinked up at him in shock.

“Merlin.” He groaned. “I can’t tell you how much better this is than all my fantasies.” He gripped her hips and slowly moved her to lie in the bed properly, crawling after her until he was on his hands and knees, her legs splayed on either side of him. Hermione blushed furiously as he ran one long finger from the dip of her throat slowly down her sternum, stopping at the tiny bow on her bra. “I spent a _very_ long time convincing myself that the witch I was dreaming of wasn’t you.” His finger turned to trace the very edge of her bra, leaving a trail of gooseflesh on her breast. “I’d dream of slowly peeling back a white school shirt and try to ignore that the tie was red and gold.” He pushed the robe slowly off her shoulder and down her arm, leaving it at her elbow while kissing the freckles on her shoulder. “I’d tell myself that the pattern of freckles on her shoulders was completely arbitrary and not what I happened to glimpse once when I saw you in Muggle summer clothes.” He used one of her curls to tickle her neck. “I’d remind myself that plenty of witches have brown curly hair.” He kissed her eyelids. “And amber eyes.” He kissed the top of the scar from Dolohov that ran from her collarbone down to her hip. “And a scar that would juuuust peak out of the top of their shirts.”

Hermione found her voice. “But I’m nothing special.” She reasoned.

Malfoy dropped down to his elbows, bringing his torso and hips flush with hers. She felt that he was hard and flinched in surprise. “Oh, but you are. How you are.” He flexed his hips slightly. “I’m sure you can _feel_ how special you are.” He began to move down slowly, pressing a kiss to her skin every inch. “So special that no amount of pain or reprimand could keep me from wanting you.” He kissed the bow of her bra. “The number of nights I’ve taken myself in hand imagining you in my bed…” He kissed just below her bra and began moving to the outside of her ribs, his breath tickling her as he spoke between kisses. “I read everything I could about how to please a woman, hoping to one day use it on you.” He nipped the sensitive spot just underneath her bra on her side. “Everything I read just made my dreams better. Hotter.” He licked back to the centre of her chest and began kissing in the other direction. “Dreaming about making you come on my tongue never failed to make me wake hard and wanting.” He nipped her ribs when he reached her side again. “I’d sit at breakfast, watching you eat and trying not to bring myself off under the table to thoughts of crawling under the Gryffindor table to make you scream.” He licked back to the middle again and resumed his downwards path. “One morning a Hufflepuff accidentally blew up their schoolwork and the gust flipped your skirt right up your incredible thighs.” He dipped his tongue into her bellybutton, making her squirm a little. “I nearly gave her my entire vault right there and then.” He traced his wet tongue along the top of her knickers, dipping it just slightly below the elastic.

Hermione’s hands flew to his hair with no conscious input from her, and she looked down at him with wide eyes as she panted a little. “You want to…” She couldn’t finish the sentence as Malfoy’s silver eyes gleamed up at her.

“I want to lick you until you cum with my tongue buried in you, Hermione. I want to taste you until you can’t take anymore. I want you to bury those clever hands of yours in my hair and grind my face into you. I want you to cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock.” He hooked one finger into the elastic of her knickers at the side. “Say the word and I’ll make you see stars until you scream my name.” Draco dragged the elastic out just slightly before letting it snap back.

Hermione chewed her lip and let go of his hair. “I’m not… sure I can.”

Malfoy rose up to sit on his heels, his face curious. “There’s no need to be shy, Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head. “No, I mean, I really don’t know if I can.” She fidgeted with the bedspread, crumpling it with nervous fingers. “I, um… I tried myself a few times… and I couldn’t… you know.” She cringed at her lack of eloquence and avoided his eyes. “So maybe it’s just better if you just… worry about yourself?” She looked back at him with an apologetic shrug.

To her surprise, Malfoy was looking at her with feral, possessive delight. “So not only have you never even touched another man, you’ve never even cum by your own hand?” Malfoy leaned over to place his hands on either side of her head. “Salazar’s arse Granger, how are you even real?”

Hermione frowned up at him. “Well I am.”

Malfoy leaned down and pressed an almost chaste kiss to her lips. “Let me try.” He breathed against her lips. “Let me make you cum.”

Hermione bit back a sigh. She’d hoped to just get this over with, and while she couldn’t deny that the way he’d talked before was titillating, words and actions were two very different things. But she still wasn’t certain of his temper and very much wanted to get out of here, which meant holding up her end of the bargain, so she nodded and waved a hand. “Okay, go ahead.”

Malfoy leaned in for a deep kiss, and Hermione let him coax her tongue into sliding along his. His hands began to roam again as he held himself above her through what she thought must be sheer willpower because surely no one’s abdominals were that strong. His hands slipped the robe off of her remaining shoulder at a glacial pace, stopping often to stroke the revealed skin before sliding the fabric down another inestimably small amount and returning to the newly exposed skin.

Pulling away, Malfoy gave her a smile that made her rather aware that the other girls at Hogwarts seemed to find him charming for some reason. It made her very uncomfortable to realise that he did in fact look rather appealing at that moment, smiling down at her as though she was every Christmas come all at once.

Slipping the robes off her arms and over her hands, Malfoy broke eye contact with her to stare down the line of her body as she lay very still under him. “Beautiful.” He breathed. “So _fucking_ beautiful.”

Hermione looked down too, she’d always thought she was a bit boyish in proportions and a little on the skinny side, so hearing Draco Sodding Malfoy speak of her body in that reverent tone when he was actually looking at it was a little surreal. Looking down also made her realise that he was fully clothed while she was in nothing but a few scraps of purple lace. She brought her arms up over her breasts automatically in embarrassment.

Malfoy kissed her shoulder. “Do you need me to stop?”

Hermione blinked at him. “Would you if I said so?”

Malfoy laughed a little and kissed her hand where she grabbed her opposite arm. “I would.” He looked up with that hungry, sharp smile. “I’d try to change your mind after though.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Of course.” She tentatively dropped her arms back to the bed. “It’s just, um, I just… realised that I’m fairly… naked. And you’re not.” She blushed and avoided his eye. “Feels… uneven.” She clarified.

Malfoy’s smile turned teasing. “You want me naked too, Granger?” He sat back on his heels again and touched the onyx button at his throat with one graceful hand.

Hermione watched him toy with the button like a deer in the headlights. “I have no idea.” She blurted out. She truly didn’t, she realised. The whole situation was so immensely messed up, but she was almost beginning to feel like it was a normal seduction. That she wasn’t bargaining her virginity away to someone she’d thought hated everything about her, but was a normal girl being pursued by a boy who wanted her. Even if he was a little overly intense about it.

Malfoy laughed like black velvet, deep and smooth. “Well…” He flicked the button open and moved to the next. “Just…” He flicked that one open too. “Tell…” A third button fell open and she could see the top of his carved marble chest now. “Me…” The fourth button revealed that his pectorals were surprisingly sculpted. “When…” The fifth button actually made her mouth go dry. “To…” The abdominal muscles revealed by the sixth button explained how he’d been able to hold himself up so well. “Stop…” The seventh, and penultimate, button let his shirt fall open. Framed by the deep black of the shirt, his torso was like a Greek statue, all pale skin and hard muscle. Even the spiderweb of scars left by Harry and his _Sectumsempra_ only served to highlight how beautiful he was.

Hermione stared, transfixed, at the final button before her eyes flicked up to meet Malfoys. 

Malfoy slowly licked his lips and took her hand, placing it on the final button. “Do you want to stop?”

Hermione was stunned to find herself shaking her head.

“The last one is yours then.” Malfoy let go of her hand. “And afterwards I’m going to kiss my way up your delectable legs and remove these delightful knickers with my teeth.” He dropped his eyes to watch her hand on the button, his surprisingly dark lashes sweeping his cheeks.

Before she could overthink it, Hermione lifted her other hand and popped the button so his shirt fell away. Malfoy raised his hands to divest himself of his shirt as soon as she did, tossing it carelessly to the side, then slid back on the bed and lifted her left leg to place a kiss on her ankle. Hermione tried not to look at his Dark Mark.

“The fact that you were probably the only girl at Hogwarts who didn’t shorten their skirt used to drive me wild.” He kissed the inside of her calf. “You didn’t even bother with all those charms to shave the hair off your legs.” He kissed just below her knee, his breath hot. “That somehow made me unbearably attracted to you.” He kissed just above her knee, his breath coming faster. “That you genuinely didn’t give a fuck was the hottest thing you could have done.” The very tip of his tongue slipped past his lips and touched halfway up her inner thigh. “You didn’t need all that superficial rubbish the others used to try and attract a suitor.” He licked a stripe almost to her knickers, the tip of his tongue stopping millimetres away from the scrap of lace. “Because you are you.” He dropped her left leg and picked up her right, kissing the ankle. “Who needs beauty potions when you’re pure power and wit wrapped in enough beauty to make the gods weep?” He kissed her calf. “When you wielding a wand is enough to make me need a wank between classes?” A kiss below her knee. “When one look from your eyes would have me crawling to you?” Another above her knee. “Who would deny you?” His tongue darted out to taste her inner thigh. “Who _could_ deny you?” A stripe licked up to her knickers, his tongue teasing the very edge of the lace. “Because you are you.”

Hermione made a choked noise in the back of her throat when Malfoy made eye contact with her and delicately sank his teeth into the band of her knickers with one eyebrow raised. Understanding he was waiting for permission, she widened her eyes and nodded. God and Merlin help her, she actually wanted this now. She must have lost her mind. Malfoy growled low and throaty then began to drag her knickers down her legs, using his hands to raise her hips as he did so.

When her feet were free Malfoy lay on his stomach between her legs, arms hooked under her thighs and hands firm on her hips. She shrank a little under his intense gaze at her vagina, she felt quite shy about having someone stare at it. No matter how hungry and intent they looked.

Malfoy blew a breath over her, making her jump. “Spectacular.” He leant his head forward and traced her labia from bottom to top with the pointed tip of his tongue, opening her up. Flattening his tongue, he retraced the path with a firmer lick, making Hermione’s head fall back onto the pillows. When he reached the top he circled her clit with feathery movements before using a firmer pressure directly on it. Hermione hissed a breath in and bowed slightly off the bed in surprised pleasure. Malfoy made a low growl and pushed his face into her, burying his nose into her sparse pubic hair as he licked her from entrance to clit repeatedly. He’d run his tongue around her clit to tease and then use a few firmer licks to make her hips writhe. When the tip of his tongue began dipping into her entrance before licking up Hermione had slapped both of her hands over her mouth to keep the little sounds she was making in.

Malfoy lifted his head to look at her. “I want to hear you.” He breathed, face flushed and hungry.

Hermione drew her hands away from her face and watched with wide eyes as he lowered back down and fastened his lips directly over her clit and sucked with gentle pressure. Her head slammed back down and the breathy whine that escaped her throat didn’t even sound like her.

Time began to lose all meaning as Malfoy worked her over and she felt herself began to get slick with more than his saliva. The wetter she got, the more he seemed to enjoy it. Soon he had his tongue lapping at her insides while her hands were in his hair and she was making helpless little rocking motions against him. Her skin felt hot and the tendons in her neck were corded as a warm pressure built low in her belly.

When he moved his tongue to her clit again and slipped one long finger into her waiting heat, she nearly yanked his fair hair out as her hands fisted convulsively. Then he made a beckoning motion upwards while he placed a particularly firm lick from his finger all the way up and the pressure shattered. With a low, strangled moan her whole body seized and her vision went black.

When she could think again, Malfoy was resting his chin on her hip looking very pleased with himself. Hermione stared dumbly down at him, wondering what the hell you said after that. “Um… Thank you?”

Malfoy laughed. “You’re welcome Hermione.” His voice was warm, and not mocking in the slightest. He raised himself up to crawl over her. “More than welcome.” He kissed her jaw and the corner of her mouth and she could smell her own arousal, which made her blush bright red. He lowered himself between her legs and carded a hand through her hair while he looked at her with a little smile on his face. “Even if I didn’t make you scream my name.”

When she felt his erection hard against her centre, a sudden horrified thought occurred to her. She poked him in the ribs. “Malfoy! I need a contraceptive if you’re going further!”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know the charm?”

Hermione huffed, her post orgasmic haze clearing rather rapidly. “I don’t have a wand, _remember_. So unless you want a little half-blood running around, I’ll need the potion or for you to cast it.”

The way Malfoys eyes lit up worried her a little. “Is that so?” He rolled his hips against her. “But, lucky for you, I do know the charm.” He toyed with the lace of her bra while he summoned his wand from Merlin knows where and levered himself up just enough to wave it over her womb. “ _Utero Inanis_.” He tossed his wand over the side of the bed as a warm little flush ran over the skin of her stomach. “Now, how do you feel about ‘further’?”

Hermione looked away from his silver eyes. She bit her lip. “Will you be gentle?” She asked in a soft whisper.

Malfoy kissed her slowly, taking his time and cradling her whole body as he did. “Absolutely. I’ve dreamt about this so long I’m not going to fuck it up now.” He slipped his hands underneath her back and opened the clasp of her bra, removing it and pressing a kiss just above her heart. “I want you to enjoy this.”

Hermione brought her hands up and rested them on his hips just above his belt. “Okay. I believe you.” She really did. Not just because he’d gone down on her, fantastic as that had turned out to be, but because he’d made it clear he would listen to her. Before, he’d pushed and manipulated, but since the clothes had come off, he’d been surprisingly respectful. Even before that really, when he’d let her nap on him just because she’d needed a moment. She guessed that getting what he wanted meant that he felt magnanimous.

Malfoy rose up to open his pants and slip out of them. When he knelt there in all his glory Hermione found she couldn’t help but stare at his cock where it jutted out thick and pink from his thatch of sandy curls, as straight and proud as Malfoy himself. Her mind supplied that he was probably only just above average, but the less rational part of her brain was wondering how the hell he was going to fit.

Malfoy gave an amused huff. “Not sure terror is quite the reaction I was looking for when I disrobed.”

Hermione jumped. “Sorry!” She squeaked. “I was just wondering how it would… fit.” She finished with an apologetic grimace.

Malfoy’s face turned fierce and he dropped to all fours over her. “Now that’s more like it.” He kissed her throat and lowered himself to lie between her legs, groaning when he pressed into her and bucked slightly to slide his shaft over her folds. “Fuck _me_ Granger. I’ve been imagining this moment for way too long.” He canted his hips over her, making his cock slide along her labia again. “The feel of you below me… God I hope I can last.”

Hermione gasped as he ducked down to lick at her breast, slowly moving his hips over her as he did so. It felt shockingly good every time the glans of his cock would slide over her clit. As he licked towards her nipple his thrusts got longer until the head of him glided over her entrance every time. She was getting hopelessly wet and felt the pressure from before building low in her belly, little whimpers were escaping her and she was pushing her hips up to meet him.

Malfoy was talking between soft kisses, licks, and bites to her breasts. “Somehow you are better than any dream. Merlin you’re so _wet_ and you taste like everything I could ever want.” He bit sharply on her nipple, making her keen. “I used to listen to you get angry and imagine that you’d scream in bed, but this is somehow better.” His relentless thrusts became heavier against her and she curled around him, her thighs beginning to quiver. “I’d imagine dragging you into an alcove and refusing to silence it so the whole school could hear you. I’d be hard half of class thinking about it.” He kissed along her collarbone to her shoulder. “But now every time it’s quiet, I’m going to hear these tiny,” He bit her to make her whine. “Little,” He thrust particularly hard into her clit. “Noises.” He kissed her, licking into her open mouth and tangling his tongue with hers.

Hermione was gasping, her lungs dragging air into themselves as she pressed back into Malfoy. Every last bit of thought was cast out of her head as he kissed her like pure sin. The way he moved, the way he _talked_ , the timbre of his voice rolling through her. He could have been reciting potion recipes and it would have sounded utterly hot if he used his voice like that. His skin was hot and smooth under her hands, and she could feel his restraint in his every movement.

Malfoy eventually pushed up enough to look her in the eye. “Are you ready?”

Hermione was lost to everything that she was feeling and could barely talk, her nervousness barely an undercurrent to the purely physical sensations. “Yes. Slow.” She pulled him down and he groaned into her mouth.

Malfoy reached between them and grasped his cock to angle himself to penetrate her. Hermione felt him begin to push forward into her, the head of his cock opening her up felt strange and a tiny bit uncomfortable. When she wiggled a little he stopped and dropped his head into the crook of her neck, panting against her skin.

“Salazar you feel fucking amazing.” He nipped at her collarbone. “Are you okay?”

Hermione took stock for a moment. “I think so… It feels a bit… stretched.” She squirmed a little experimentally. “I think you can move again.”

Malfoy peppered kisses all over her neck and face as he slowly pushed into her until she felt a sudden slightly painful pressure. He immediately stopped moving and waited when she hissed.

“I- I think it’s my hymen.” Hermione closed her eyes tight, brought back to jarring reality and expecting more pain, remembering overheard conversations between girls talking about their first times.

Malfoy instead withdrew gently until he was almost all of the way out. “Tell me if any of this hurts.” He rumbled and watched her face carefully as he pushed back in gradually until he reached that point again, stopping just before it became painful and withdrawing again. He continued like this, kissing her and stroking her breast and nipples, watching her for any sign of discomfort, until she began to relax into his ministrations. The discomfort lessened and it was beginning to feel quite good again, she felt stretched still but it had become a delicious kind of fullness. Except she knew he was holding back, and she decided she would really rather see what sex could be like without that.

So she did what she thought was logical and when he thrust into her, at the moment before he was about to pull back, she grabbed his hips and planted her feet on the bed to thrust back up into him. The pain of him being in her fully was far less than she feared, a kind of hard internal pinch when the barrier gave way that started fading relatively quickly. It still punched the air from her lungs for a second though.

Every muscle in Malfoys body went rigid and he swore into her ear. “Fuck! Merlin, Granger! Are you alright?”

Hermione nodded tightly. “I think so. It was just taking a while.” She shrugged. “Just… Give me a second and then you can move.”

Malfoy held her to his chest and nuzzled at her cheek. “I had a whole bloody plan you crazy Gryffindor.”

Hermione laughed. “Yes well, now it’s done.” She said pragmatically and nudged the back of this thigh with her foot. “You can move again.”

Malfoy pulled out incredibly slowly and she felt a sting as he did. Thankfully it wasn’t bad, just a tiny bit uncomfortable for a second. Malfoy rocked gently to begin with, not pushing too hard or withdrawing all the way, letting her get used to the feeling. He was whispering into her ear as he did, calling her a good girl and telling her how amazing it felt to be inside her. The more she relaxed, the longer and faster his thrusts got, until he was panting next to her ear as he sped up the pace. She found herself beginning to enjoy it, he seemed so focused on her that it was honestly hard not to.

Snaking an arm between their sweat-slicked bodies, Malfoy began rubbing just to the side of her clit in time with his movements. “Granger- Fuck- I’m going to cum.” He mouthed at her neck and she felt his moans vibrate against the sensitive skin there. “You feel so fucking tight and wet… I can’t…”

Hermione felt him somehow change within her, getting hotter and rubbing one specific spot somewhere deep inside her, and couldn’t help but give a pleased mewl, it felt amazing. Malfoys hips began to stutter when she did and so she did it again, right into his ear.

“So fucking perfect.” His voice was tight and his movements became harder. “Couldn’t even imagine how perfect. Fit me so well.” He pushed all the way into her and she felt him throb as he sank his teeth into where her neck met his shoulder and grunted, his fingers stilling on her clit.

Hermione waited below him for him to come back to himself, feeling a little crushed by his weight, but surprisingly not minding all that much. When he lifted his head to kiss her as he slid out of her, she responded easily, as though it was only natural.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make you cum again.” Malfoy apologised as he rearranged them so he was lying on his back with her cradled half on his chest. “Did you want me to try?”

Hermione hummed and shook her head. “No. I’ve heard it’s very rare to achieve orgasm the first time you have sex. Besides, I’m a little sore now.”

Malfoy pressed a kiss to the top of her head and yawned slightly. “I’m sorry, I tried to be gentle.”

Hermione lifted her head to look at him. “I noticed. I think it’s just because it’s new.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why did you take so much care? You could have just done whatever you wanted?”

Malfoy looked disgruntled. “I’ve been pretty blatant that I want you I think. Malfoys are always attracted to power, and you’re bursting with it.”

Hermione mulled that over. “I’m having a lot of trouble reconciling your behaviour in here with, well, every interaction we’ve ever had.”

He sighed. “Fair.”

They lapsed into silence until Hermione felt uncomfortably sticky, blushing heatedly at the realisation that it was likely Malfoys semen drying on her thighs making her feel that way. “I think I need a shower.” She mumbled, sitting up and scooting to the end of the bed to gather her discarded robe around her.

Running a finger down her naked back Malfoy summoned his wand to him and cast a tempus charm, showing that it was still early afternoon. “Would you like me to stay or go?”

“I think… I’d like some time to think if you don’t mind.” She said quietly while slipping the wrinkled robe over her shoulders and holding it shut so she could get to the wardrobe to get fresh clothes.

“Of course. I’ll see you for dinner then.” She heard Malfoy begin to dress himself to leave. He followed her into the wardrobe and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you Hermione.” Then he walked out to disaparate.

-

That night when he arrived for dinner, Malfoy had filled the bookshelves in exchange for a kiss. He hadn’t pushed her any further and had seemed very content with simply tucking her under his arm on the couch and reading until she was tired again and he shooed her to bed with a pleased smile.

It wasn’t until two days later that he did more than give her a quick kiss, until then he had mostly just sat with her for meals and looked inordinately pleased with himself. She had quite literally never seen him this relaxed, not even when he was around his friends at Hogwarts. She assumed he was happy he’d succeeded in his goal of sleeping with her, and for all his talk of wanting her for a long time, was surprised he didn’t just get bored and leave her alone after they’d done it.

But here they were, her on his lap after dinner and reading while he kissed his way up her shoulder and caressed at her breast through her robe, forest green linen today.

“Keep reading sweetheart.” That was another thing that confused her, he was using pet names. Aside from the fact that she couldn’t leave, the whole thing felt very domestic. “I used to sit in the library where I could see you and daydream about sitting you on my lap while you studied and ignored me. It got me amazingly hard thinking of you slapping my hands away and scolding me to wait until you were done.” He tweaked her nipple gently. “The number of times I nearly came when you’d actually rebuke someone while I was mid-fantasy was absolutely improbable.”

Hermione figured that was exactly what he wanted, so she removed his hand. “Let me finish this chapter.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and saw his wolf’s smile again as he trailed his fingers up her thigh. She slapped his hand away. “Malfoy, I said wait!” She tried to scold him like she would Harry or Ron when they interrupted her with some nonsense about Quidditch. 

He made a pleased noise and she felt him get hard under her bum. She rolled her eyes at his idea of foreplay and continued swatting his wandering hands until she finished the chapter and set the book aside.

“Now, what did you want?” She pursed her lips at him, and was again amazed by how fast he could move, because she was very suddenly underneath him and he was tearing the buttons off of her robe in his haste to undress her and cast the contraceptive charm.

After he went down on her again until she came twice, he barely gave her time to adjust to the girth of him before setting a much faster pace than last time. He rubbed her clit from the moment he was in her as well, making sure she reached climax before chasing his own with a few hard thrusts while he whispered filthy words in her ears about how wonderful she felt around his cock.

After he had gotten his breath back, he had given her an absolutely sinful kiss and murmured “I should have dressed you in a school uniform for that.” Which made her roll her eyes as he carried her to the bed and tucked her against his long frame. “Get some rest Granger.” He yawned and kissed the back of her head.

Hermione feigned sleep until his breaths evened out and his body was lax against her back, then slowly eased out of the bed and tugged on her ruined robes to quietly search the room for his wand. After going over every last inch of the room, she had to admit defeat and turned back to crawl into the bed wondering where the hell he had thrown it after he cast the contraceptive on her.

“Looking for something?” He drawled, grey eyes watching her as he lay, propped up on one elbow with an amused smirk on his chiselled face.

Hermione yelped in shock and nearly jumped out of her skin. “Christ! Malfoy, you scared me!” She held out her clenched fist and opened it up to show a handful of buttons she’d collected while she searched. “I couldn’t sleep and decided to look for the buttons you tore off my robe.”

Malfoy chuckled. “Of course you were.” He clearly didn’t believe her, but was simply amused by her attempt at subterfuge. “Come to bed, I like holding you.”

Hermione snorted and dropped onto the bed, pouring the buttons onto the table as she passed. “Never in my life would I have thought you were a cuddler.”

Malfoy dropped a kiss on her shoulder and pulled her back into him, draping a lazy arm over her waist. “Only for you, love.”

-

Malfoy had sex with her a number of times over the next week and a half. Sometimes multiple times a day, sometimes leaving a day or so in between. She hadn’t needed to initiate after the first time, and he was very considerate if she needed him to back off, never pushing her to do anything that she wasn’t at least somewhat comfortable with. All in all, it was much more pleasant than it potentially could have been.

There was also the many, many orgasms to consider. She wondered to herself if all sex was like this or if it was Malfoys singular drive to get her off as much as possible. Either way, she decided that while the situation absolutely sucked, she was enjoying that aspect of it quite a lot and refused to feel ashamed about it.

She also found herself more and more amused by the fantasies he had. For all that he had bullied her about her nagging in school, a great number of his daydreams appear to have centred around that exact thing. At one point he’d even goaded her into an argument about house elves rights and nearly tackled her into the bookshelf in his rush to fuck her up against it when she’d gotten riled up and threatened to punch him again. He’d then healed the bruises that particular session had left on her back with what seemed to be genuine apologies and regret for being the cause of them. The next time they’d had sex had been slow and sweet, full of kisses and sighs. Hermione had kissed him back with warmth curling through her until he’d whispered something broken into her hair and tumbled into the throws of orgasm with her.

But regardless of how nice Malfoy could be, it was a relief when the two weeks was up because she was going to see everyone again. She was nearly giddy with joy when she got up that morning and dressed in the most practical robes she could find.

Malfoy looked dour as he sat down for breakfast, and for all that he’d kept her locked up in here like some concubine, she felt a pang of sympathy for him. He’d been happy these last two weeks, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen him happy at all, not even as a child when they started Hogwarts.

So she did something that astonished them both and stretched across the table to take his larger hand in her small one. “Look, I’m still pretty annoyed that you wouldn’t just let me go… But if you want… maybe we can meet up for tea or something another time?”

Malfoy smiled a sad smile. “I’d love to…” He squeezed her hand and let go to eat more of his scrambled eggs. “Let me know if you’re ever up for it.”

Hermione thought it was nice of him to let her decide, and went back to happily eating her own breakfast.

“Hermione, I have something for you.” Hermione looked up to see him pulling three things out of his jacket. One was a folder of papers tied with twine, one was a delicate silver necklace shaped like a dragon, and the other was a vinewood wand carved with ivy. He placed them both on the table and slid them over. “The wand… I shouldn’t have kept it from you. The necklace has some incredible protection spells on it. And the folio is a list of people collaborating with the Dark Lord or people who may be targeted in the near future.” He looked away. “I’m… not coming back after I drop you off today. I’m not up for fighting my own family, but I won’t fight you either. So I’ll go into hiding.” His mouth gained a bitter twist. “Besides, they’d most likely kill me the second they realised I’d let you go.”

Hermione reached out with shaking fingers and touched her wand, nearly sobbing in relief when she felt her magic react to it. “Thank you Malfoy.”

Malfoy looked away with a tiny scowl tugging his eyebrows together. “Least I could do I guess. You should put the necklace on as well.”

Hermione hesitated at that. “Just protection spells?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I promise, only things to keep you safe.”

“Okay, thank you.” She lifted the necklace over her head and felt it resize to fit her comfortably.

“It’s charmed to not be noticed by anyone until you point it out, by the way.” He fingered the dragon sitting right at the hollow of her throat and smirked. “Looks good on you though. Now, as we have a meeting at ten, shall we go?” He offered her an arm like a proper gentleman would.

Hermione touched the sleeve of his jacket. “With who?” She hated how uncertain she sounded, but she still wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t a trick, and her earlier optimism had worn somewhat thin.

Malfoy smirked down at her. “Oh, you’re going to love this.” Then he pressed her hand to his arm and spun them away.

They landed in an abandoned muggle park, hidden in a small thicket that grew to one side. Hermione looked around to catch her bearings and nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice spoke behind her.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” The familiar voice didn’t yell, but spoke with a kind of heated intensity, and Malfoy’s wand went shooting out of his hand. “Hermione, come here.”

Hermione nearly wept in relief and ran to Harry, who was holding his wand steady on Malfoy. “Oh my god! Harry!” She stopped just short of him and chewed her lip. “Uh, how many times did you see your first patronus?”

Harry spared her a small grin, his green eyes flickering to her before focusing back on Malfoy. “Twice. What did you set on Ron when you were upset?”

Hermione choked on a sob and threw her arms around Harry. “Birds.” His free arm went around her and she felt some of her internal tension melt. She was safe, Malfoy had kept his promise.

“Lovely as this is, mind if I have my wand back now?” Malfoy drawled, sounding bored and arrogant as he held a hand out to Harry.

“Tempting to just snap it, you fucking git.” Harry snarled. “But for getting ‘Mione back, I’ll give it to you. But I better not see you ever again, we clear?”

“Crystal, Potter.” He held out his hand to receive his wand, then met Hermione’s eyes as he stowed it away. “Stay safe Granger.” And then he left without another word.

Harry immediately swept her up into his arms and spun her around. “God, I’m so glad you’re okay! I didn’t know if Malfoy’s owl last night was a trap, but I couldn’t just ignore it!” He put her down and began patting her over in a brotherly display of concern. “He didn’t do anything to you?”

Hermione winced a little. “I won’t say he was a perfect gentleman, but he didn’t harm me at all.” She leaned into Harry and relished how familiar he felt. “I’m just so glad to be home, I’ll tell you about it another day?”

Harry nodded and dropped a quick kiss into her hair. “Yeah, let’s get you home.”

-

The next time anyone saw Draco Malfoy was May the Second at the Great Battle of Hogwarts. Almost as soon as the battle started, reports started coming in from both sides that the missing Malfoy Heir had been spotted, first in the forest and then in the castle. He’d never gotten in a direct confrontation with anyone, instead cursing and jinxing Death Eaters and their allies from behind to distract them from their already engaged duels so they’d lose, then hurriedly asking their opponents if they’d seen Hermione Granger. It was only when he knocked his estranged cousin out of the path of their aunts _Avada_ that he was finally pointed to the seventh floor.

Hermione Granger first saw him when she and Harry had been cornered in the Room of Requirement by Crabbe’s miscast Fiendfyre spell and she was frantically trying to get a broom to obey her enough to escape. Just as the wall of flames cut off Harry’s attempt to save her, she was suddenly thrown onto another broom and dashed out so fast they only didn’t hit the wall opposite the Room by the grace of her rescuers flying skills.

When she turned around to find that her rescuer had silver eyes and moonlight hair she froze in shock until her grabbed her face to kiss her soundly.

She’d had months to come to terms with what he’d done, both before and after her kidnapping, and until that exact moment she had still been unsure whether to forgive him.

But in that instant, covered in ash from her brush with death and with a Horcrux breaking at their feet, she was so glad to see him that she couldn’t help but kiss him back.


End file.
